


Past Saving

by HasNoName1982



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Destiel - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 17:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16269101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HasNoName1982/pseuds/HasNoName1982
Summary: Cas will stop at nothing to save Dean from Michael. Michael won't let Dean go.





	Past Saving

**Author's Note:**

> First Supernatural story. Enjoy. Please

Cas looked on at the crowd of demons standing before him, wearing soccer moms and country club members. To a human, the creatures standing in front of him wouldn’t look threatening in the least. As an angel, Cas could see their true faces. He could see the ugly, twisted remnants of what used to be souls staring back at him.

 

“There is a power vacuum in hell, you’re barely holding yourselves together anymore—“

 

The demon in the jean shorts interrupts him. “Because of the Winchesters.” He sneers at Cas. “And their little pet.”

 

Cas’ fists clench at his sides, but he otherwise remains impassive. He could smite all of them if he wanted, but he needs them. “You’re going to need a new king. And if you’re willing to help me, I’ll make sure that it’s you.”

 

The demon scoffs. “You expect me to trust you?”

 

“No, but I expect you to be smart.”

 

“Like who? Crowley? The Winchesters’ bitch?”

 

Cas steps forward. “Would you rather be like Abaddon? Or Asmodeus? Or perhaps Lucifer?” The demon’s face falls deeper into a scowl with every word that Cas speaks. He keeps walking forward until he is almost nose to nose with the creature with his polo tucked into his shorts. “Crowley knew that if you don’t work with the Winchesters, you’ll be destroyed by them.”

 

“So what? I help you track down Michael, you get me in the Winchesters good graces, and I become king of hell?”

 

Cas nods. “That is the brunt of it, yes.”

 

“And how are you going to get Michael out of your little boyfriend?”

 

“You let me worry about that.” Cas glares. He hates having to barter with a demon—again—but he is willing to do whatever it takes to get Dean back. One day, he’ll figure out this is a bad idea. Today is not that day, not when Michael has Dean.

 

The demon chuckles darkly, dropping his head to his chest and taking a few steps back. “You know, you’re right. The Winchesters have made Hell… well, hell.” He chuckles at his own joke. “And I figured, with the archangel taking over for the pretty one,” he shrugs, “I’d say my money is on him.”

 

Cas glares daggers at the demon. “We’ll stop Michael.” He kept his eyes on the demon in front of him, but out of his periphery, he became increasingly aware of how the other demons began to surround him.

 

The demon in the jean shorts smiles at him with a big Cheshire cat grin. “And how do you plan on doing that without killing the vessel?”

 

Cas doesn’t answer. They have methods to extract Michael without hurting his vessel. But Cas has no intention of sharing that with these demons. So, instead, he stays quiet. Unfortunately, that makes it seem like he _doesn’t_ have an answer.

 

The demon chuckles again. “Like I said, I think we’ll take our chances with Michael.”

 

A loud crash of thunder echoes around them as the door bursts open. Standing there, stock still, the red lights behind him casting him in shadow, is Michael.

 

Cas jerks his head back to the demons in shock. The bastard played him. The demon chuckles again, turning his back to Castiel to face the new angel. Anger courses through him, and he drops his angel blade down his sleeve. He lunges at the demon, every intention to shove his weapon straight through the son of a bitch’s throat, when his acquaintances grab him and hold him back.

 

Michael steps further into the room. Underneath his true face, Cas can still make out his friend. He can still see the green in his eyes, the shape of his nose, the curve of his mouth. It’s so undeniably _Dean_ , and yet it’s not. There is a coldness that Cas has never seen on Dean before. Even if he couldn’t see his true form, there is no way that Cas would have thought this person was his Dean.

 

Michael’s eyes drill into Cas, but it’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking. There are no emotions on his face. “Leave us,” he says to the demons, even though his eyes don’t move.

 

The demons don’t question it. They immediately release Cas and leave the room, until only the two angels are left. Cas remains tense, preparing his body for the fight he knows they’re going to have. His angel blade gripped in his hand. Michael, while incredibly rigid, still appears completely at ease. He’s not afraid of Cas. He has no reason to be.

 

Cas remains silent. He’s ashamed to admit it, but he wasn’t prepared for this. He expected to have time. When will he ever learn that he can’t trust demons?

 

“I didn’t peg you as someone who would associate with demons.”

 

Michael chuckles. “Little hypocritical, don’t you think? Considering you were here to try and help a demon become King of Hell?”

 

“I guess I expected the great Michael to aim higher than us mere seraphs.”

 

The archangel shrugs as he begins to start pacing. “Well, I don’t have much of a choice, now do I? I hear I have you to thank for that.” He turns back to Cas, his eyes roaming over his body condescendingly before he lets out a soft laugh. “Can’t say I was expecting that.”

 

The grip on his angel blade tightened as his fury consumed him. “We will stop you.”

 

“You sure about that?” Michael taps his temple, or rather, _Dean’s_ temple. “I know all about the Winchesters and their pet angel. It’s all up here. But from what I can see, Dean, here, is the real tour de force. But that other little mud monkey?” He scoffs. “You?” He stops pacing and faces Cas head on, arrogant smirk permanently affixed to his face. “It’s almost cute that you think you have a chance.”

 

“We stopped you before.”

 

“The Nephilim stopped me,” he corrects, “unless you’re talking about the other me, in which case, from what Dean here remembers, you were dead when that happened.” He shrugs, laughing. “Don’t know what you’ll do this time. Fall at my feet again?” He raises his hand, as if just remembering something important. “Or maybe! You’ll try to suck up all the souls from purgatory again like when you beat Raphael. That turned out to be a grand old plan.”

 

Cas finally dropped his eyes, his shame over his actions to defeat Raphael has never truly left him. How Sam and Dean managed to forgive him for that, he has no idea.

 

“What do you want?” He spits out. “To kill me?”

 

Michael chuckles. “If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead by now.” Michael steps closer. “Sadly, this… pathetic, little world, is a little light on angels. I’ve had to get a little creative.”

 

He stops walking when he’s only a foot away from Castiel. “Heard you tried to play our father a few times yourself.”

 

Cas’ jaw drops. He couldn’t possibly be hearing what he thinks he’s hearing. “You want me to work for you.”

 

Michael shrugs.  “Thanks to you, Heaven is all but gone. Seems like your responsibility to fix it.”

 

“Bite me.”

 

Michael laughs. “Be reasonable Castiel.” He starts pacing again. “You can’t kill me. Even if you could, you won’t. Not while I’m wearing this meatsuit. You can’t stop me.” He stops moving again. “What other choice do you have?”

 

The archangel gives him only a moment before he begins again. “This world is miserable, Castiel. Surely you can feel it. Humans… are not capable of taking care of anything.” He gestures around him. “Look what they’ve done to this planet. This world was a paradise. Our father gave the humans everything they could possibly need, and what did they do with it? They’ve destroyed it.”

 

“ _My_ father. Created this world. And I’ve seen what you did with your world, and I have to say, I think the humans have done a better job.”

 

Michael chuckles. “Your affection for this vessel has blinded you, brother.”

 

“You are not my brother.” Cas sneers. Michael rolls his eyes.

 

“We can fix this world Castiel.”

 

“By killing the humans?”

 

“They’re a poison. They’ve destroyed this world to the point that it’s nearly beyond saving. I mean, why should they be in charge of this planet? They’ve already proven that they can’t take care of it.”

 

Castiel’s grip on his sword finally starts to loosen, and his scowl softens. “I won’t hurt this vessel, Castiel,” the archangel continues. “You have my word on that. You know that I can protect him. Help me purify this world, help me fix what our father created, and you have my word, once I’m done, you can have him back.” He gestures down to his body--Dean’s body. “I will let you and your little pets have Fiji. No monsters, no trouble. Just the three of you, retired, sipping margaritas on the beach.”

 

Cas hesitated again. That did sound like something that Dean would want. But that didn’t mean that he trusted Michael. He wouldn’t even trust his Michael. This one? Dean had trusted him.

 

Slowly, Cas stepped closer to the monster in his friend’s skin. Staring directly into his eyes, he promised, “I will get Dean to expel you. And once he does, I’m going to kill you.”

 

Michael sighs heavily. “Fine.”

 

Before Cas has the chance to act, Michael’s fist connects with his face with so much force, he flies into the wall. His angel blade is thrown from his hand across the room. Pain ricochets through him at the crash.

 

He tries to stand up on shaky legs, but before he makes it to his feet, Michael is in front of him again, slamming his fist first into Cas’ stomach, before reeling back and breaking his nose.

 

By some miracle, Cas manages to keep standing this time, and even manages to block the next strike, but not the next two. He falls on all fours, spitting blood out. “Dean,” he groans before a foot slams into his ribs and drops him onto his back with a cry.

 

Michael sneers at him. “You know, when I heard what you did to Heaven, I was actually kind of impressed. Now? I’m just stunned.” Cas tries to pull himself into a sitting position when that foot is back, only this time it’s cracking his jaw. His head snaps back with such force, he can feel his spine break. If he weren’t an angel, that strike would paralyze him. “How in the hell did you manage to destroy Heaven?”

 

Cas tries to crawl away, towards his angel blade. It won’t kill Michael, and Cas knows he’d won’t hurt Dean, but there’s a comfort to holding it in his hands, even if it’s useless. “I would have expected the angel who caused Heaven to fall would put up a little more fight.”

 

Michael kicks the silver blade farther away. “The Castiel in my world is a thousand times the angel you could ever hope to be.” His fist entangles itself in Cas’ hair, pulling upward, so Cas’ head snaps back, his back arched up uncomfortably until his ear is pressed near Michael’s lips. “And that’s even after I cut off his wings.”

 

Castiel tenses as fear courses through him. Cutting off an angel’s wings is the highest possible punishment an angel could receive. Even Gadreel didn’t lose his wings.

 

The shock and anger at hearing those words pumps enough adrenaline through Cas so he’s able to pull himself from Michael’s grip.

 

He grabs the archangel by the neck and forces Michael to look at him. “Dean,” he can barely get the word out with all the blood in his mouth, “Dean, I know you’re in there. Fight him!”

 

Michael’s fist slams into his face again, sending him careening towards the wall again. “Dean Dean Dean Dean Dean,” he mocks. “That’s all you care about, isn’t it?” This time he doesn’t teleport to Cas, he doesn’t need to. He can walk as slowly as he wants. Cas tries to crawl away, tries to get away, but he can’t move fast enough. His body hurts too much. He can’t get it to move correctly. “Not Heaven, or earth. Humanity or angels. No,” he kicks Cas’s leg. “All you care about is this single little boy.”

 

His knee is broken, on top of everything else. Tears are nearly ready to start falling down his face. How he manages to hold them back, he doesn’t know. He does know that he can’t cry. Not now, at least. He needs to be strong for Cas.

 

“He knows how you feel about him, by the way.” Castiel tenses at Michael’s words. He turns his head to see Michael tapping his temple. “It’s all up in here. He knows that you’re in love with him.”

 

He grabs Cas’ shoulder and hoists him up so that he’s sitting straight up, leaned against the wall. Blood trickles down his face, nearly chokes him as his fills his lungs. “Dean,” he tries again.

 

“Do you know what he thinks about you?” His fingers curl around Cas’ hair and pulls until the two of them are nose to nose. His eye fall to Cas’ mouth, and for a moment, the angel thinks he’s looking at his friend again.

 

Michael leans in close, his breath tickling Cas’ lips.

 

“Absolutely nothing.”

 

Cas tries to pull away, but the grip on his hair is too painful.

 

“He’s not going to expel me because he doesn’t want to. This is a vacation for him,” Michael’s other hand comes up to wrap around Cas’ windpipe, “he finally gets away from you.”

 

Cas chokes. His air is cut off, his mouth is filling with blood. He can feel his vessel’s bones crumbling as Michael squeezes tighter and tighter.

 

“He just can’t seem to escape you, can he? I mean, you follow him around like a lost puppy, it’s pathetic, really. And you never seem to get the hint.” He finally releases his grip on Cas’ hair, which does nothing to alleviate his pain.

 

“He even got to burn your body, and you still come back.” Cas tried to push him away, but his arms aren’t strong enough. Michael bats him away easily. “Honestly, I’m doing him a favor, he’ll thank me when he realizes he never has to deal with your little crush ever again.”

 

Cas tries to choke out “No!” but there’s too much blood and not enough oxygen. Michael presses his fingers against his forehead, gently, almost reverently despite the fact he plans to murder Castiel. But before he does, he rips his hands away from the broken angel.

 

Cas slumps over, unable to hold himself up. He looks up into Dean’s face, or what he can see if it behind Michael’s twisted form. He hates how cold and uncaring he looks.

 

“You’re not worth the effort.” With a flap of wings, Michael is gone. Leaving no sign that he was ever there in the first place.

 

Cas crumbles, falling onto his back and unable to move anymore.

 

The demons file back into the room while giving him a wide berth until their leader in his ridiculous jean shorts finally enters. He walks up to the angel with a self satisfied smirk on his face. Cas can’t do much as he leans over him. “Still want to help me take over Hell?”

 

Cas rolls the blood around in his mouth before spitting it in the demon’s face. The bastard’s smile widens.

 

“Tie him up.”

 

~*~

 

Michael crashed to the ground in the warehouse he’d taken refuge in this world. His control of his vessel is nearly decimated. He can feel Winchester pulling him back inside his head.

 

He finds himself crawling on the floor, his physical form weighed down too much by the battle in his head. The Winchester is surprisingly strong when he’s angry.

 

He grabs onto the sink and hauls himself to his feet as Winchester screams in his head, _Let me out!_ His cries are so loud, they send his grace pulsing. Michael stares into the mirror as the screaming gets louder and more intense. Winchester’s control of the vessel gets stronger, to the point that Michael can feel himself pushed back into the vessel’s mind before he can take control again.

 

Michael grips the sink with all his might. The porcelain cracks. His head pounds as the two beings fight for control, all while Dean continues to scream as loud as he can, _Let me out!_

 

The mirror cracks as Michael takes control of the body again.

 

He finally eases up his death grip and straightens back out. “Impressive.” He tells the human.

 

“ _You try and hurt Cas and I swear I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch.”_

 

Michael can’t help but chuckle. “You can’t push me out, Dean.” He turns on the faucet and begins to wash his hands without a care in the world. “You can try all you want, but you are _my_ vessel. You were made for me. Now you can cry and scream, and you can stop me from hurting your boyfriend, but you can’t kill me.” He turns the faucet off and grabs a towel. He looks back at the mirror, straight into Winchester’s eyes. “So sit back, and enjoy the ride.”

 

He turns his back on the mirror, on Winchester, now fully back in control. He still has an army to build.


End file.
